


Vivid

by strawberriez8800



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Series 3, erotic dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriez8800/pseuds/strawberriez8800
Summary: “Before I say anything, let it be known I’m a flexible man, Tommy, even if I don't seem so," Alfie says. "Flexible. Willing to trydifferentthings, yeah.”“Tatiana was the one doing the fucking then.” Tommy’s smirk is insufferable. The brat.In which Alfie dreams about getting fucked by Tatiana, and asks Tommy a question.For the Peaky Blinders Rare-pair Bingo Challenge 2020. Bingo prompt 'Erotic Dream.'
Relationships: Tatiana Petrovna/Alfie Solomons, Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31
Collections: Peaky Blinders Rare Pair Bingo 2020





	Vivid

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'Erotic Dream' bingo prompt.
> 
> Timeline of this ficlet: Some time in Series 3, after the vault scene with Alfie, Tommy and the Russians. Established Tommy/Alfie in this AU.
> 
> (This marks my completion of the bingo square, because it makes one row.)

Laid bare on his back, Alfie looks up at Tatiana, letting his eyes fall shut when she presses a fierce kiss upon his mouth. She feels different to Tommy with her supple, plump lips that asserts what she wants without question. Fit for a duchess, certainly.

(Tommy, on the other hand, kisses with shocking tenderness in square opposition to the front he wears for allies and enemies alike.)

As Tatiana pulls away from Alfie, she grants him a smile streaked with wicked curiosity like she’s venturing on unexplored territory. “Are you ready, Mr Solomons?”

What the fuck is she asking about? “You’d have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

She reaches for the jar on the bedside, and it takes Alfie a moment to recognise what it is.

“Oil?” he asks, or rather, chokes out the question.

He's not done this before. Didn't think he would do this anytime soon, yet here he is.

“You told me what you want, mishka. I am about to give you what you want.” She coats her fingers with the oil, smirking at what must be utter fucking bewilderment warring with desire on his expression.

It's not long before Alfie accepts the reality of his predicament: fuck, he _wants_ this, wants to be studied, to be explored by the hands of a duchess until there's nothing else he knows except her touch.

She holds his face, gentle but firm. "I will start now," she says, and Alfie wants to tell her that yes, he understands and she doesn't need to fucking narrate everything. He keeps silent though, and braces himself as she finds his entrance with her lubricated fingers, slow and tentative despite her wayward grin.

Before long, she begins to massage his opening, light and teasing, and he sucks in a sharp breath, involuntary. “Oh fuck,” he breathes out. “This feels weird, yeah it does.”

“Do you want me to stop?” she asks, pausing.

“No, fuck no.”

(Who the hell knows when he’d get his next chance at this marvel?)

“Try to relax,” she says, voice like honey. “You do this with Tommy, do you not? Nothing new.”

“Well, you see, Tommy’s usually the one that takes it up the arse. This, right, this is new.”

The words have barely left Alfie’s mouth when she slides a finger into him. It’s shallow, and her finger is rather slender, yet he already feels impossibly full.

(He reminds himself to give Tommy more credit for his sheer ability to take Alfie’s cock again and again. It’s a skill, frankly.)

“Relax,” Tatiana says again. “You are so very tight, Mr Solomons.” She teases her finger a little further into his entrance, eyes glinting at Alfie’s gasp from the sensation. “You are beautiful like this, yes.”

“Shut up,” he says through gritted teeth. “Just—ah, fuck—” his words are cut short when the only thing he feels, the only thing he _knows_ is Tatiana’s finger, all the way in now, and he’s surprised he has managed this far at all. He turns to grab the jar of oil beside them, and that’s when he notices Tommy sitting on the armchair beside the bed, watching them with a cigarette in his hand like he’s enjoying the view all too fucking much, the insolent little fuck—

Alfie awakes to the mid-morning light in his bed. Tommy is reading beside him, glasses perched daintily on his nose. “Morning,” Tommy says, then raises a brow at Alfie’s state of waking, which can’t be too fucking pretty given the lunacy of the dream he woke up from. “What is it?”

Alfie opens his mouth to reply, but shuts it promptly. It’s fucking ridiculous is what it is, this dream, yet he wants to know. _Must_ know. “The Russian princess,” he says, “she still around?”

Tommy puts away his book. “Yes, Tatiana’s still in England. Leaving soon, last I heard,” he says, his frown deepening slightly. “You’re asking because...?”

“Nothing, because nothing,” Alfie says, but changes his mind. “Right, well. I had an interesting dream.”

“About Tatiana?” Tommy says, and it’s not quite a question. “She’s interesting, yeah.” He smirks to himself, like he’s remembering some particularly amusing memory.

“Do Russian duchesses fuck differently to women here?”

Tommy glances at Alfie. “Yes.”

Fucking hell, Tommy’s answer is not making matters any easier.

Sitting up on the bed, Alfie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to erase the memory of him getting finger-fucked by Tatiana with Tommy watching like a greedy little slut—

“You want to fuck her,” Tommy says apropos of nothing.

Alfie looks at him, scowling. When did he become so bloody transparent? Or maybe everyone wants to fuck Tatiana so it's not like it requires much deduction to begin with. “Before I say anything, let it be known I’m a flexible man, Tommy, even if I don't seem so. Flexible. Willing to try _different_ things, yeah.”

“She was the one doing the fucking then.” Tommy’s smirk is insufferable. The brat.

“So,” Alfie says, ignoring the way his cheeks are warming. Fucking embarrassing. “Can you get her here or not?”

“Done.”

“Huh," Alfie says, frowning with suspicion, "that was easy.”

Tommy shrugs. “She likes to fuck," he says with a nonchalant conviction that is certainly an indicator of Tommy's, well, extensive experience where Tatiana's fucking is concerned. Tommy lights a cigarette and takes a long, slow drag. His eyes trace the movement of the smoke that twirls languidly into the air, before he casts Alfie a sidelong glance. “Can I join?”

Alfie scoffs. “What a redundant question if I’ve ever heard one,” he says, and pulls Tommy in for a kiss. The cigarette falls from Tommy's fingers, nearly singeing the sheets, but Tommy bats it away with his hand.

It’s a good morning indeed.


End file.
